


Birthday Girl

by wlwkate (orphan_account)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7865443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/wlwkate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So, what do you want for your birthday?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Girl

”“So... what do you want for your birthday?”

Shitty woodchuck buzzes pleasantly in her system and it takes her a beat longer to process what Clarke said than usual but eventually she grins stupidly wide and answers, “A tattoo.”

Clarke nods and sinks further into the couch. “I figured.”

Girls night is well under way. Clarke’s curled up on the far end of the couch in her sailor moon teeshirt and a pair of Lexa’s boxers. Twenty minuets earlier Lexa had been right here with them, talking animatedly about whatever shitty movie Netflix had recommended them on this particular Friday night but now she’s passed out in the recliner, a half opened gas station wine bottle sandwiched between her thighs and the cushion all while soft alcohol induced snoring leaves her.

“It’s just that thing I was showing you, the little butterfly design.” Octavia yawns and Clarke mimics her. She figures they aren’t far off from Lexa’s soft snoring. “The one I want right here.” Octavia makes it a point to hike up her own teeshirt, the same sailor moon tee that Clarke wears that they bought when they were in middle school. She points to the jut of her hip and nods, letting the faded shirt slide back into place. “You said it would only take half an hour and I’m good for it.”

“No, no. I’ve got you, O. It’s not my style but it’s exactly the kind of stuff Raven does. Badass and bold.” Octavia wracks her mind for who Raven is and comes back with a drunken night that’s fuzzy along the edges where Clarke had brought her coworker along with them to the bar. Octavia knows that she ended up hooking up with the girl but she can’t for the life of her pair her name with a face. The night had gotten a little... “Besides, she owes me big time for the touch ups I did for Anya.”

Octavia vaguely recalls Clarke ranting to her about Anya, a touch up job that ended up taking hours without.

“I don’t want to put her out of anything.”

“I’ll ask her but it’ll be fine. That little butterfly is going to take thirty minuets tops while I can still see Anya’s fucked up ink every time I close my eyes.” Clarke groans.

“Fucked up?”

“Until I fixed it, obviously.” Clarke yawns again and rises to her feet. Her bones pop mechanically as she stretches a bit. “Anyways tho, come to the shop next Thursday and I can make sure it gets done for you. I’ll text you her number. That sound good?” Octavia nods excitedly while Clarke works on nudging Lexa awake. A mess of fluffy curls, crooked glasses, and blankets grumbles sleepily as Clarke starts to drag Lexa off to her bedroom. “Night, O.”

“Night, Clarke. Night, Lex.”

Lexa doesn’t look like she really understands what’s happening but she still casts a half-assed wave in Octavia’s direction. “G’night.”

* * *

 

Clarke has work the next morning and is out of the house by nine. By the time Octavia wakes up at a little past noon she has a mess of texts waiting for her. Two of them are from Bellamy asking if he could bring Gina to her birthday get together next Saturday. Another one is from Lexa saying she left a plate of pancakes for her, sitting on low in the oven. She answers them both fairly quickly, sending her thanks to ‘sexie lexie’ for the food while letting her brother know bringing Gina is fine.

She pads out of her room in an oversized shirt and boy shorts that can’t really be seen underneath it, greatful for the fact that her roommates were gone and couldn’t police her outfit choice. The kitchen smells gloriously of pancakes and O makes a mental note to pick up Lexa some sushi from Momo’s on her way home from the gym. Not soon after she enters the kitchen is the oven opened. Octavia discards the pan holding her breakfast, switches off the oven, and slides the lot of them onto a plate. She raids the pantry for some syrup and searches through the drawers for a fork until she’s situated at the table with a mouthful of syrupy pancakes.

Clarke’s text comes across her phone as she takes her second bite.

_**From Princess Griff:**  
raven agreed fair is fair and is cool to do the tat. here’s her number. dont say ive never done anything for you, blake! happy early bday_

Below Clarke attached Raven’s contact that had a slew of emojis strung to it. Octavia quickly saves it and decides to send Raven a quick message.

_**To Raven:**  
Hey, this is Clarke’s friend, Octavia._

Raven’s reply comes soon after.

_**From Raven:**  
octavia blake right?_

_**To Raven:**  
That’d be me_

_**From Raven:**  
pretty sure i did some stuff on your brother a while back. he’s the guy with the freckles and curly hair right?_

_**To Raven:**  
Yeah, yeah thats definitely him. Really??? Those were you?? Guess I’m in good hands. Thanks for agreeing to do this btw, I really appreciate it_

_**From Raven:**  
you sure are and dont worry about it, i definitely owe clarke more than a few favors_

They text for a little while longer. Octavia tells her about her idea about the butterfly as she shovels more pancakes into her mouth and Raven says she’ll work on a few sketches.

_**From Raven:**  
swing by shop right before closing on tuesday and we can get everything finalized. that cool?_

_**To Raven:**  
Sounds good_

* * *

 

The weekend comes and goes and pretty soon Octavia’s back at work at the coffee shop up the street from her and Clarke’s apartment. The place is pretty small and could easily be defined as a hole in the wall but it’s packed with personality. Glittering lights line the interior of the shop and there’s so many plants and bonsai trees that Octavia feels like she can _almost_ breath through the thick smell of coffee. Bellamy set her up with the job a year ago as a parting favor for Kane after Bell graduated and started teaching downtown. She’s thankful for it, Kane pays well and the people here are friendly enough even if she gets the occasional creep who insists she’s flirting with him.

She works the register today, Lincoln brews, and Murphy grumpily buses the tables. They flipped for who did what and Octavia won. She prefers dealing with the customers to wreaking of coffee any day or cleaning supplies any day. There aren’t any customers right now so she helps Lincoln stock the pastries in the display case, making idle conversation about the weekend until the bell at the door jingles, alerting her of a customer, and she’s forced to look up.

A woman with tanned skin and a slight limp walks up to the counter and waits for a cashier while she busies herself with her phone. Her arms are ridiculously toned and her sleek hair is pulled back into a ponytail with an accented braid. Octavia marvels at her, her mouth going dry. She’s easily the most beautiful woman that she’s seen come through this place since she’s been working here.

Lincoln elbows her in her side, rolling his eyes so hard Octavia actually blushes and starts to sweat. What the hell? Is she actually blushing?

“Go,” Lincoln and Octavia trudges forward in realization. 

Oh right, her job.

“Good morning,” Octavia greets, hurrying to the counter and wiping her her sweaty palms furiously on her apron. “Sorry for the wait. What can I get for you today?”

The woman looks up from her phone and Octavia’s greeted with gorgeous brown eyes that remind her of dark oak trees. If that didn’t make her mind turn to static the charming, toothy smile the woman sends her a beat later sure does. Octavia immediately scolds herself for acting so much like Bellamy. She can practically hear Clarke snickering about the Blake’s and their inability to keep it in their pants in her head.

“Don’t worry about it. If waiting for coffee and having a pretty girl serve me are the worse things that happen today I should be fine.” Another dazzling smile. “Can I get a medium hazelnut frappe with two extra pumps of caffeine and no whipped cream?”

Octavia raises a brow but decides better on asking why anyone would need that much caffeine in their system. “Name?”

“Raven.”

Octavia pauses, her head cocks slightly. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? “ _You’re_ Raven?” she tests.

“Yeah, that’s me.” But then Raven’s eyes flit down, supposedly to Octavia’s name tag. Raven’s eyes widen and her the tips of her ears go pink. “You’re Octavia?” 

A drunken night hits her quicker than she could have prepared herself for. _Now_ she remembers Raven. She thinks it’s kind of astounding that she’d managed to forget her. After all, the deep red scratches Raven left down her back hadn’t faded for weeks.  

Octavia coughs, scribbling Raven’s name onto a cup and handing it off to Lincoln. 

Raven’s eyes narrow accusingly at her. “Aren’t you going to charge me for that?”

Octavia shakes her head. “I could say the same thing to you.”

Raven stares at her for a few unusually long seconds, looking as if she wants to protest before Lincoln interrupts with her coffee, sending a knowing look between the two of them. “Thanks.” She takes it hesitantly and then fishes into her pocket and stuffs a couple dollar bills into the tip jar.

“You don’t have to-”

Raven shrugs it off, taking a sip of her frothing drink with another warm smile. “See you tomorrow, Octavia.”

* * *

 

She calls Clarke the second she gets off work and starts walking home. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Raven all day. Her brown eyes, her honeyed skin, the fact that Raven called her _pretty,_ but especially the fact that Octavia’s had her face buried between her legs before.

Clarke picks up on the third ring. “ _Hey, O, what’s up_?”

She immediately sputters what she’d been thinking all day into the phone. “You didn’t tell me that it was her! I had sex with her!”

A man passing by her on the sidewalk scoffs at her. Octavia barely thinks as her middle finger goes up and she rounds the corner and continues walking without another glance to him.

“ _Oh, Raven? She told me you served her coffee this morning._ ”

“You could’ve given me a heads up or something. I think I almost choked on my tongue, Clarke. She called me pretty and all I could think about was the fact that I’ve seen her-”

Clarke’s laugh rings in her ear. “ _What are you, O, 14?_ ”

“I thought we agreed to never bring that up again.”

“ _Why would I agree to that_?”

Octavia groans and quickly tries to squash that conversation and all the teasing with it before Clarke can take it any further. “Seriously, Clarke. Raven.”

“ _Yeah, I know. Raven’s a babe. A babe you’ve apparently slept with before. And she’s going to give you a tattoo? Stop stressing that’s like a triple win._ ”

“Is she single?” Octavia wonders if she sounds as nonchalant as she hopes she does. “I mean, not like I would do anything but...” She can’t bring it in her to finish the rest of her sentence. 

“ _O, you made it perfectly clear that you don’t want me fucking with you love life anymore_.” Octavia pouts because she knows she’s right. “ _But yeah,”_ she can hear the grin in Clarke’s voice, _“she’s single_.”

* * *

 

Work the next day is painfully slow. She busses that day and wipes idly at already clean tables and washes and rewashes dishes that she keeps trying to insist are dirty. Kane hangs around today and even though he’s okay company Octavia can’t seem to appreciate having her boss breathe down her neck and critique her when she starts the task that is watering all the plants in the shop.

“You have to mist the bonsai’s a foot back. No, not like that. Give that to me...”

Half of her hopes that Raven will come back again today for coffee - the half that threatened Lincoln and Murphy with their safety if they didn’t let her serve her if she did happen to come through - but the other half of her vehemently tells her to stop acting so hung up like she _is_ 14 again.

When it’s finally time to close - thank god - Murphy and Lincoln tease her endlessly about her look of disappointment that Raven hadn’t come though the shop. Their teasing quickly ceased when Octavia hotly told them that she was on her way to see Raven now. As quickly as the teasing stopped, it amplifies.

“You’re going to see her?” Murphy notes with a wicked grin. “Didn’t know all it took was some smiling and a couple bucks in the tip jar to set the mood.”

“Oh, fuck you Murphy,” Octavia shoots back. 

“Careful,” he warns. “Wouldn’t want Raven hearing that one.”

Lincoln and Murphy both double over with laughter as Octavia fumbles to set all the locks, her cheeks steadily heating up with color. Eventually Lincoln takes pity on her and takes the keys away and shoos her out of the shop. “Have fun at your thing.”

Octavia’s grateful but still too wound about the teasing to say anything about it. She hurries off down the street, sending Clarke a quick text.

_**To Princess Griff:**  
You still workin? Im heading up for that thing with Raven rn_

Clarke’s one worded text follows almost immediately.

_**From Princess Griff:  
** pokemon_

And underneath Clarke sent a picture of Lexa, her head craned down toward her phone presumedly playing the game Clarke hasn’t shut up about in a good week. Octavia rolls her eyes and closes her phone and speeds up her walk a bit.

When she gets there a guy she’s never seen before is waiting behind the counter. He noticeably checks her out the second the bell jingles, singling her arrival. “Welcome,” he says and Octavia has to guess if his voice is naturally that unnaturally deep or if he’s putting on an act for her.

“Hey,” she mumbles absently, eyes scanning the interior of the tattoo shop.

Octavia hasn’t been here in almost two months and in that time Clarke’s been gushing endlessly about all the renovations they’d been doing to the place. The last time she was here the waiting room was plain with a few posters strung carelessly up on the wall but now the place had color. Paint covers the shop’s walls and Octavia knows that Clarke is behind the earthy mural that wraps around the entirety of the walls, especially when she spots a figure that looks suspiciously like Lexa nestled into a spot in the trees. Florescent neon signs hum lightly above a few of the various leather beds, another one over the counter where the guy still stands ogling her. Near the back there’s two doors, one of which she hopes Raven will come out of soon.

“Are you here for somethin specific reason, gorgeous?” 

Octavia cringes. It’s the guy again. She deals with creepy customers at work enough to know where this is going. A compliment on her appearance feels awkward coming from him unlike the smooth way it fell from Raven’s mouth the day before. It’s not even that he was unattractive, she just...

“I’m here to talk about a tattoo I’m getting,” she says. She makes sure to keep it polite and clipped. “Is Raven here?”

“I do tats,” he says proudly. She wonders if he expects her to awe, like they _weren’t_ in a tattoo shop right now and Raven didn’t _also_ do tattoos.

“Yeah, but Raven and I have this thing worked out for my birthday so if you could just-”

“I have some designs-”

“Go get Raven.”

As if on cue Raven emerges from one of the door from the back, a few papers tucked underneath her arm. Her hair frays from it’s ponytail, a contrast from what her pony looked like at the beginning of the day yesterday. “Hi,” she says brightly, the same toothy grin welcoming her. But then her head shifts toward the man behind the counter and she rolls her eyes. “Wick leave her alone.”

“How do you know I was even doing anything?”

Raven’s eyes snap back to hers. “Octavia was he doing anything?”

“I mean, kinda.”

“See? Now fuck off before I call your dad.” 

“I could calls yours too, you know,” Wick mumbles hotly under his breath. 

“Oh yeah? Call him and let’s see how that turns out.”

Then Raven has a hold of her wrist and is tugging her back into one of the rooms in the back. “Sorry bout him,” she starts. “His dad and mine own this place so Clarke and I haven’t figured out how to fire him yet. I mean his sister Harper is fine but he’s kind of a pain in the ass.”

For once in her life Octavia doesn’t know what to say. Raven drops her wrists and shuts the door behind them and she takes in the beautifully painted room.

"Clarke do the walls in here?"

“Some of them. She did all the forest stuff. The trees and nature and stuff. Doesn’t make sense because I don’t think I’ve seen Clarkey stay outside willingly for more than five minuets before that game but it looks good. Not as good as this awesome wall right here.” Raven looks up at her with a shy smile, her voice softens. “This one is mine. I’m not as good with paints or anything but...”

The wall is beautiful. It’s all blacks and whites and draws her eyes compared to the subdued greens of the rest of the room. It’s mostly designs and intricate patterns with blocked words subtly painted in.  A tall lamp, a leather chair, and a tattoo bed are all pushed up against it. When she looks back at Raven, she’s looking at her expectantly.

“It’s gorgeous,” she marvels. She’s temped to reach out and run her fingers along the designs but thinks better of it. “I can see why Clarke said you’d be perfect for me.”

Octavia’s eyes instantly widen at what she just said. “I mean, for the tattoo,” she adds on quickly.

“Of course,” Raven agrees easily. Octavia’s tongue comes out to wet her lips. “The tattoo.” 

Raven starts to busy herself with the papers she has tucked underneath her arm. She lays them out on the counter near the corner of the room and motions for Octavia to join her. “So I was thinking of what you said. The simple design you want. I did a couple sketches last night but this one really stuck out to me. Seeing you helped me, I think.”

Raven slides the piece of paper out toward O to examine. Right away Octavia’s just reminded how right Clarke is about Raven’s style - it’s _her_. The tattoo itself is pretty small, no more than two inches all around. What really gets her is the design. Raven used blacks and greys and whites to get the coloring just right. It’s wings sprawl out beside it’s body, tiny but proud - just like her. Octavia looks back up to Raven, who’s eyes dart between her and the sketch nervously. 

“It’s good,” Octavia offers up simply. She’s never been too good with her words, they get her in trouble more than anything, but she hopes the smile that accompanies her praise conveys just how much she actually likes Raven’s design. 

“Better be,” Raven agrees. “It’s for your birthday.”

Octavia stands there staring for a beat too long before Raven clears her throat and slides the sketch back toward her. “So you can just come by tomorrow then.” Raven’s fingers glide over the design. “Unless you have any questions?”

“No questions,” she says stupidly. “See you Raven, thanks.”

When she gets home Clarke and Lexa are being all too loud and Octavia bangs on their door to shut up before she retreats into her room for the night. But even with Lexa’s incessant yapping carrying through the thin walls of their apartment all Octavia can think about Raven and their meeting, even if she tries to pass it off as excitement for the tattoo.

She ends up reading a few articles before she falls asleep. Titles like _How to Prepare for Your Tattoo_ and _What Not To Do: Tattoo Edition_ but try as she might Octavia doesn’t come across any information about what to do when you’ve somehow managed to sleep with the tattoo artist and can’t stop thinking about her. She falls asleep with only one realization: she’s screwed, both literally and metaphorically. 

* * *

 

The morning of her twenty second birthday is mostly one big lecture from Clarke.

“Clarke we have to go! We’re both going to be late.”

“Okay, Lex. Just let me tell her one more time.” And just like that Octavia is the target of Clarke’s words once again. "Wear something loose! Like that black dress you hardly ever wear. You don’t want anything rubbing too harshly against it.”

“Okay Clarke.” Octavia’s found that agreeing with her was better than telling her to stop.

“Remember to eat, O. Don’t leave until you’ve eaten.”

“Okay Clarke.”

“And drink lots of water!”

“Okay Clarke.”

“And don’t be a dick.”

“Okay Clarke.”

“I already brought home some aftercare cream so just-”

“ _Clarke_.” It comes from both Octavia and Lexa, nearly simultaneously.

Clarke snaps out of her ramblings and looks at Octavia with a pout. “I’m just telling you, Octavia.”

“But you’ve already told me three times.”

Clarke sighs heavily and nods. “I know, I know. Just make sure you listen to Raven, okay? I don’t want you becoming some horror story of hers.”

She grins. “Like Anya?”

“O!”

“Kidding, kidding. Now go to work, I promise I’ll remember what you said.”

Clarke chews on her lip but nods again. She shuffles around their living room, grabbing a few things before she sets off toward the door, Lexa already halfway down the flight of stairs. “Okay. See you after work then, birthday girl. Enjoy your new ink.”

Octavia rolls her eyes. “Goodbye, Clarke.”

“Happy birthday.”

* * *

 

Work passes quicker than normal, Octavia figures that it’s probably nerves. Kane offered her the day off but Octavia politely declined. She’d rather spend her time anxious and making money than anxious and sitting at home alone. Lincoln smashed a cake in her face and Murphy was less bitter than he usually us (especially after Emori comes in and order coffee and he conveniently took his break) and Kane gifted her a little bonsai tree that he’d been growing.

Before she meets with Raven again Octavia stops at home to drop off the tree and change into the dress Clarke insisted she wear. No less than fifteen minuets after she entered her apartment, she’s leaving again and setting off toward the tattoo shop.

“You’re early,” Raven says when she walks into the shop, the bell chiming above her. She stands a way back, right behind the front counter, but Octavia notices the way Raven’s eyes lower for a second before they snap back upward, a blush creeping up on her cheeks. 

“Clarke told me to be,” she says. “Is that okay?”

“Oh, yeah of course. I wish more of our customers would be.”

Raven pats the girl standing next to her on her shoulder. She looks vaguely like Wick so Octavia figures it’s probably his sister, Harper. “Follow me.”

Raven leads her to the back of the shop, passing a few people getting tattooed in the process. She spots a familiar tattoo near the back and quickly realizes it’s Clarke’s. She’s bent over a large man who makes her look tiny in comparison. Their eyes meet and Clarke sends her a wink before she returns to her work. 

Upon seeing Clarke’s tattoo it dawns on her how bare Raven was for someone who did this stuff for a living. They end up in the back room again, the door shut behind them before Octavia’s curiosity gets the best of her. “What tattoo artist doesn’t have any tattoos?”

Raven’s answer comes quickly. “Just because you can’t remember them doesn’t mean I don’t have any,” she says slowly. Her eyes hold Octavia’s for a few seconds before she gets back to work and vaguely points to the tattoo bed for Octavia to lie down on.

Oh. Well, Octavia hadn’t really considered that as an answer. 

She climbs onto the bed and slips off her flip flops, letting them fall to the ground with a faint smack. Raven is busy washing things and getting supplies out and Octavia figures that since it’s her birthday she’s allowed to tempt her fate. 

“So you have some?”

Raven pauses for a moment but then she’s moving again as if Octavia hadn’t said anything. “Yeah, I have some.”

“Where?”

Raven turns around slowly, her eyes catching Octavia’s again. All too quickly do Raven’s dark eyes become too much for Octavia to temp and she finds herself looking at her idle flip flops on the floor. 

“Aren’t you supposed to know?”

Octavia’s mouth goes dry all of a sudden and she finds herself wishing that she hadn’t asked, if only for the sake of her rapidly beating heart. 

“Anyways, birthday girl, pull up your dress.” 

If her heart wasn’t beating out of control before it sure is now. “What?”

Raven rolls her eyes and her smirk isn’t very well concealed. “For your tattoo? The one I’m giving you.”

“Oh, right.”

Octavia slowly pulls up the black dress she’d put on earlier, revealing the plain black underwear she’d slipped on underneath. She wonders if Raven can tell how much thought she’d put into the underwear she’s wearing. She wonders if she’ll be able to feel the heat radiating off of them. 

Raven pulls up a chair and takes a seat on top of it, tearing Octavia from her less than appropriate thoughts. Raven fishes for a sharpie in her pocket and yanks the elastic of Octavia’s underwear down enough so that her hipbone is clearly exposed and a sliver of trimmed, coiling hair is exposed. Octavia really, really tries not to think about it. 

Raven’s eyes widen at something, at what Octavia doesn’t know, but for a second Raven looks like she’s about say something before she clears her throat and looks back up. “So I’m just going to do the outline and you tell me if there’s anything you want me to change, that sound good birthday girl?” Octavia nods, not trusting herself to talk completely. 

Raven opens the sharpie with her mouth, letting the sharpie cap rest between her teeth. She presses one of her hands to Octavia’s side, steadying her, while the other delicately starts to press the sharpie’s tip into her skin. 

Raven works the outline into her skin and the whole time Octavia wonders if Raven can feel how fast her heart is beating, how warm her body must be. She wonders if Raven notices every time she subconsciously holds her breath, can feel her stealthily trying to let the pent up air out. 

“Stop squirming,” Raven orders, her tongue poking out slightly as she continues to work.

Raven keeps readjusting her hold on Octavia’s side and she finds it harder and harder to do as she’s told. It’s a few more minuets before she gets any sort of relief. 

“All done,” Raven all but hums. Her hand falls away and she pulls back to admire her work and Octavia can only wonder if Raven feels slightly disappointed that she’s pulled away, too. “Look good?”

Octavia sits up, propping herself up on the palms of her hands as she tries to look at the outline in her skin. Her dress falls down when she comes forward, obstructing Raven’s work from view. Before Octavia can do anything Raven grabs the dress, bunches it up in her hand, and holds up so Octavia can get a good look. Raven’s fingers accidentally stroke up her stomach to hold her dress in place and Octavia’s stomach clenches in response. Octavia cranes her neck forward and tries to ignore Raven and her proximity, she figures this whole thing will be a hell of a lot easier if she does, and is greeted with a black butterfly outline, practically identical to the one Raven showed her yesterday. 

“Looks good,” Octavia confirms. She braves a look up at Raven only to see stray hairs have fallen away from her ponytail and O has the inexplicable urge to brush them back behind her ears. 

_Pull yourself together,_ she chastises herself. She really _is_ acting like a teenager again. 

“Ready for the next part, birthday girl?”

Octavia considers saying something cheesy like ‘Ready as I’ll ever be,’ but finds she has just enough willpower left to refrain from doing something that she’d be cringing over for weeks to come. “I’m ready,” she says instead. 

Raven goes away and her dress falls down her stomach again. Octavia lays back down on the bed, hikes it up again, and waits for Raven to return with her gear. In a few seconds she’s already returned but with a noticeable lack of anything to actually tattoo with and a slightly distressed look on her face.

“Is everything-” 

“Sit back up,” she says and Octavia’s does as she’s told. Her brow furrows, figuring she’d have to be laying down for tattoo. She moves to say something but Raven beats her to it.

“You remember that night, don’t you?”

For a second Octavia doesn’t think she’s hearing correctly. Raven can’t possibly mean _that_ night, can she? The night where they hooked up, the night that Octavia’s only half certain actually happened. But then again, what other night could she possibly mean? “Yes,” she says despite her uncertainty. 

“Then I haven’t been reading this wrong, have I?” Raven laughs but she looks a bit unsure of herself. She smooths a hand back over her messy ponytail and Octavia starts to wonder if her look of distress is actually a look of something else. “If I’m wrong I can do the tattoo and pretend I never said anything but if I’m right - if I’m right... Well then the ball is in your court, birthday girl.”

Octavia swallows thickly. Raven licks her lips. 

“Right about what?” she dares.

“About, about...” Raven trails off again, running her hair over her ponytail again. 

But Octavia gets it, at least she hopes anyway. Right about their attraction, right about Octavia’s arousal, right about-

“You’re right,” Octavia says roughly, like she almost can’t believe what she’s saying. She takes a deep breath and braves another sentence. “So, we should do something about that, right?”

Raven’s eyes widen before a satisfied smile slips onto her face. “Yeah, we should.” And then an after thought. “You can be quiet, right?”

Octavia doesn’t get much of a chance to respond before Raven presses their lips together. 

Her eyes instinctively flutter shut as she melts into Raven. It always takes Octavia by surprise how soft girls can be. Raven’s warm and familiar and she easily sinks into the rhythm that she sets, eagerly kissing her pillowy soft mouth as she she lets out a soft sigh of relief. Octavia loops her arms around Raven’s neck lightly and toys with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, smiling when she feels Raven shiver and press harder against her.

“You know,” Raven kisses along her jaw as she says this, “if I’m remembering right,” another to her cheek, “it was actually you,” and back to her lips again, “who couldn’t be quiet.” 

Octavia makes her point when her teeth sink into Raven’s bottom lip, tugging lightly. Sure enough, Raven makes the faintest noise in response that Octavia breaks away to smirk at. 

Raven doesn’t seem to care much, though. She shrugs, moves forward and catches her lips again. Raven’s head tilts, her mouth slips open and her warm tongue swipes along Octavia’s lip before tilting forward still and sliding against her tongue. Octavia sighs softly into the kiss, her hand coming to side of  slipping into her mouth. 

Octavia isn’t sure how long they stay like that making out.  Octavia half laying, half sitting on the rickety tattoo bed, Raven pressed up against it.  All Octavia knows is that they only finally pull away when Raven makes a sound that clearly wasn’t causes by her.

“You okay?” Octavia says breathlessly, as Raven’s eyes slip shut and she makes a move for her thigh. 

“Fine,” she grits out. “Just my leg.”

Octavia’s eyes drift down to where Raven pushes subtly right above her brace and her brows furrow. “You should’ve said something,” she says, sitting up and scooting over so that Raven can sit down next to her. She briefly wonders if the wheezing table is going to be able to support their combined weight but she has more pressing things to consider like kissing Raven and finding out where all her tattoos are hidden. 

Raven doesn’t say anything but she sinks down onto the tattoo bed nonetheless, a look of gratitude clear on her face. The bed groans as it accommodates her weight as Octavia waits for Raven to finish undoing her brace, the bulky thing clattering to the floor without much resistance. Raven turns back toward Octavia but she looks nervous all over again so Octavia edges forward, softly brushing their lips together again and placing her hand against her thigh to silently tell her that it’s okay. The soft sigh Raven lets out let her know that she’s succeeded. 

Raven’s hand slowly works it’s way into her hair, her fingers lightly threading through the kinks as their kiss starts to pick back up it’s previous fire. This time Octavia swipes her tongue along Raven’s bottom lip, a rush of warmth coursing through her when Raven obliges and her lips part. Her mouth tastes minty and sweet and after she breaks away breathlessly for the third time in a row, she finds that Raven’s causing her to forget to breathe.

Octavia hooks an arm around Raven’s waist, pulling her closer when Raven’s lips start to stray from her mouth. She enjoys the trail of wet kisses Raven places on her jaw and she hums lightly when she darts up and starts nibbling at her ear. Then Raven swipes O’s hair away and her head dips to attach her lips to the base of Octavia’s neck. 

“Tell me birthday girl, is this what you want?” Raven sucks harshly into pulse point before running her tongue soothingly over it. “Tell me how you want me to take you.” 

Octavia responds by grabbing Raven’s hand and placing it over her breast. If Raven’s surprised she doesn’t show it. She dips her head back toward her neck and squeezes eagerly at her chest. 

“I’m going to undo your ponytail,” Octavia tells her, already yanking the hair tie out and replacing it with her fingers, holding Raven in place. She feels Raven smile against her but she can’t say she cares. Not when Raven’s palming at her breasts, anyway.

Out of nowhere Raven bites over her already sore pulse. Octavia’s fingers tighten in Raven’s hair instinctively and she sucks in a harsh breath that Raven hums happily about about.

Raven pulls back slightly, one brow raised in question, a smirk plastered on her face. “Didn’t know you had a biting thing.”

Octavia shrugs. “More of a you thing,” she confesses pulling Raven back in for a heady kiss. 

Their lips move together sloppily, wet, and hot even as Raven mumbles a vague ‘smooth’ into her mouth in response. Raven continues to grope at her chest, rolling aroused nipples between her fingers with ease. After a while, it seems both of them grow a little impatient. It isn’t long before Raven’s warm hands start to stray, creeping underneath her black dress, scratching soft, teasing trails along her stomach. It isn’t much but it’s enough for Octavia to sigh softly in relief, suddenly acutely aware of how aroused she actually is. 

Octavia breaks away from Raven again when her hands start to trail lower and lower, pushing past her underwear and unruly curls. Raven gently eases Octavia onto her back, hovering above her, still slipping her teasing fingers down, down, down, until- 

“You’re so wet,” Raven gasps in awe, dragging her fingers through her slit to start. 

Octavia’s entire body twitches as Raven parts her slick folds with two teasing fingers. Raven does it again with a similar response, accompanied by a slight whimper from underneath her. She continues like that, stroking idly at her slickness without doing much of anything else. 

“Raven,” Octavia croaks, “don’t be a tease.” 

At the sound of her name Raven looks like she’s just snapped out of a trance. She nods and pushes into her and Octavia gasps louder than she intended to but neither of them pay that much attention. Octavia’s hands flail for a second, desperate for some sort of contact before they settle on bunching Raven’s shirt into her hands as she squirms beneath her. 

Raven murmurs something, slowly sliding her fingers in and out of Octavia testingly. It doesn’t take long for her to fingers to pick up speed - courtesy of Octavia’s begging - and work out a steady rhythm that Octavia jerks her hips upward to.

“Ah, ah,” Raven chastises, pushing her hips firming back into the bed.

Raven’s head bows down to her neck again, kissing her lazily as she pumps her finger in and out. Octavia clenches harshly around her and sucks in a sharp, “ _fuck_ ,” when Raven’s thumb suddenly starts to rub against her throbbing clit. The pressure that resides low in her stomach steadily starts to amplify and she tries to chase it’s release. 

“Feel good, birthday girl?” Raven purrs in ear. 

Octavia’s voice catches harshly on a choked back moan but she finds herself nodding desperately, hoping that somehow Raven will know that _yes_ , it does. Another rush of warmth spills from her and onto Raven’s fingers when her fingers press deliciously over something inside her that causes her to moan.

" _There,_ ” she cries out softly. 

Raven obliges, curling her finger over the spot again and again and again until everything starts to feel warm and Octavia feels like she’s going to fall. 

“I’m close -” she gasps, trying to warn Raven - “I’m gonna-”

“Don’t worry,” Raven assures, kissing the corner of her mouth. “I’ve got you.” 

It’s those words and one final swipe across her clit that does it for her. Her hips snap up and she comes with a sharp gasp, trapping Raven’s fingers inside of her and holding Raven’s hand in place she’s almost positive that if she lets go that she’ll fly away. She mumbles her name dizzily, over and over again until she collapses back onto the bed, lax, letting go of Raven’s hand reluctantly. 

Raven pulls out of her and the following feeling of emptiness causes Octavia to groan. Her eyes shut and she lets herself lie there for a second, breathing shallowly, as she recuperates. She opens her eyes again just in time to see Raven suck her glistening fingers into her mouth messily. There’s a twinge low in her stomach and a soft curse that follow and just like that she’s ready to go. 

“Sit up,” Octavia commands lowly. 

Raven’s eyes widen at that. She looks conflicted. “You don’t have to,” she says shakily. 

“I want to,” she assures. “Now sit up.”

Raven does as she’s told. She sits up on the stiff bed and dangles her legs over the side. Octavia sits up too. She readjusts her underwear and fruitlessly straightens out her dress before she slips to the ground and drops to her knees. The look on Raven’s face in that moment alone makes bearing the stiff floor worth it. 

“You can be quite, right?” Octavia winks. 

Raven swallows thickly in response. 

It takes a bit to get Raven’s skinny jeans and shoes off in the awkward position but it’s nothing that Octavia can’t do. Raven’s eyes are comically wide when it’s all said and done and she tugs her shirt down over herself as she looks at Octavia like she still can’t believe that this is happening. “Scoot forward.”

Raven scoots forward to edge of the stiff bed but still keeps her shirt tugged over herself. “Let go of your shirt.”

Raven does as she’s told. “Now spread your legs.” And again, Raven listens.

“Good girl,” she purrs finally and she swears she hears Raven whimper. 

Octavia wastes no time in finishing what she’s started. She heaps Raven’s bad leg over her shoulder and places one of her hands flat against Raven’s other thigh. She dips her head forward and starts to press teasing kisses into the inside of her thigh. Out of the corner of her eye she spots a dark mark that catches her attention. Upon closer inspection she quickly realizes that it’s a tattoo of a bird. 

“Found one,” she says, dropping a kiss to the ink. 

Raven smooths her hand over Octavia’s hair with a nod. “There’s a couple more,” she confesses. “We can save finding those for another time.” 

Octavia lights up at the proposition of another time and presses another kiss to Raven’s thigh, this time teasingly close to where she knows Raven wants it. Her suspicions are only confirmed when Raven whines above her. 

“What do you want?” Octavia asks coyly. 

“I want you,” Raven says in response. 

Octavia rolls her eyes. “Where?”

Raven grabs hold of the back of her head and pulls her forward to her center. “ _Here_ ,” she strains. 

Octavia curses roughly and nods. Sure, she’ll give Raven what she wants. 

She nudges forward, her nose burying into Raven’s coiling hair. Her arousal smells heady and strong and it makes her pleasantly dizzy when she starts to consider how she’ll taste. Octavia wastes no time finding out. She parts her wet folds with her eager tongue, stroking down once to feel Raven out. The hand Raven has pressed to her head instantly pushes forward at the simple tease for more and Octavia refuses to deny her. 

Octavia dives into Raven’s wet arousal with an eager mouth. She laps into the mess with a flattened tongue and quick strokes and Raven responds with an array of low moans.

“You have to be quite,” Octavia reminds her, pulling back and stealing a look up. A curtain of wavy hair frames Raven’s flushed face and she gives a small nod, bites into her lip, and pushes Octavia’s head forward again needfully. 

Octavia presses a light kiss to Raven’s swelling clit before she drags her tongue over it. Raven’s hips give a slight jump and she can hear the gasp that Raven tries to stifle. She does it again just because she like the response it pulls from the gasping girl above her. Raven parts her legs wider for her when Octavia starts to use her tongue with purpose. The stiff bed creaks slightly because Raven starts to rock forward into her mouth. Octavia hopes that the people in the shop can’t hear them and hopes even more that Raven’s father isn’t working today. 

“Octavia,” Raven groans. “More.”

Octavia nods and closes her lips around Raven’s pulsing clit and hums at the sharp sound Raven makes above her. O suckles at her bountiful arousal and Raven’s thighs start to shake. She can tell that she’s close if the sounds and curses her lets out aren’t indication enough.

“Are you close baby?” 

Raven yanks harshly at Octavia’s hair to keep her doing what she was doing before. “Almost,” is all she manages. 

Raven gasps again suddenly and she rolls her hips up into Octavia’s mouth. 

“Octavia,” she says. “Octavia.”

Raven teeters on the edge for only a moment more before Octavia nips lightly at her clit and sends her over the edge. Her thighs close around her head so that all she can hear are far away moans and her own rapid beating of her heart in her ears. Raven comes and comes and comes and Octavia laps it all up eagerly before Raven’s thighs fall away and she goes lax against her. Raven weakly pushes Octavia away from her, too sensitive for her to do anything else. 

Octavia rises to her feet again and pushes Raven’s damp curls away from her face. She collects Raven’s face into her hands and presses a kiss to her lips before she flops down beside her, also catching her breath. 

“Wow,” Octavia says softly. Raven nods feebly in agreement. 

They stay there for a few long moments panting and basking in their post highs before Raven speaks up.

“So,” she says slowly, a lazy smile taking over her face as her fingers brush over the smudged sharpie on her hip. “How about that tattoo, birthday girl?”

**Author's Note:**

> don't fight me cause idk how tattoo shops work. leave a review!


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